The Lost and Found Affair
by MLaw
Summary: Illya disappears and is presumed dead while on a mission tracking a shipment of deadly military armaments, leaving those back at UNCLE HQ to mourn his loss...some more than others. mild language  #1 of the Saga series AU
1. Chapter 1

"The Lost and Found Affair"

A seaman stumbled along the deck of the aging merchant ship called the Hakudu Maru, so named after a celestial being in Japanese myth who came to earth and taught humans to build ships.

The man was was dressed lightly in a dirty white t-shirt, dungarees and work boots, enabling him to function in the warm temperatures of the Pacific. He hated the heat, always finding it too uncomfortable and never seemed to grow accustomed to it, but no matter now, as it was starting to rain and that was having a cooling affect on the hot deck and him as well. He found it difficult to move as the ship rocked violently from the beginnings of the approaching storm, churning the the ocean into huge waves that made the ship rise and plunge without warning.

He fell forward, leaning against the bulkhead, steadying himself and fighting back the dizziness and nausea from his sea sickness. He tried not looking out at the water as the ship continued to rock up and down, up and down...up and down. Then the ship suddenly heaved violently...and so did he, as he grabbed the railing, letting himself surrender to his motion sickness.

He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket wiping his mouth, then tried to convince himself that vomiting made him feel better...but in reality it did not. He then sighed, realizing that he was going to have to take something to help him with it before he became completely incapacitated by being ill...he had a job to do. He avoided drugs altogether as they made him drowsy and he needed to stay alert. He had searched for a more "natural" route to help with his problem and found ground ginger root to be quite helpful. He had made his own, pounding the root into a fine powder, and placing it into gel-capsules before he had boarded the ship. A warm bottle of cola would help ease the nausea as well...he just had to make it down to the ship's galley to get them.

The man had signed aboard as ship's cook; the Maru's original one having had an unfortunate and sudden "accident" that landed him in the hospital. Allowing him to show up conveniently looking for work...when they the first officer asked his "experience"...he told them in "broken English" that he was "cook" and could "feed many men good food as he was cook in Russian navy." He was hired on the spot and so Illya Kuryakin assumed the ignominious title of "Cookie"...just as his predecessor had been called.

The storm had come out of no where, and until now, Illya had managed, dealing with only mild stomach upset, which he tolerated. But now he cursed himself for his infirmity, mumbling in Russian as he made his way down below... fighting off the next round of dizziness and nausea; hoping he would not be sick again in front of the other crew members...or on them for that matter.

This was a distraction that Illya Kuryakin could not afford. His mission and his life depended on it. He signed on board the Maru in the Philippines after an arms and explosives shipment he had been tracking for over a month from Australia and through Malaysia had finally reached it's destination in the Port of Iloilo on the southern part of Panay Island and he needed to stick with it to find it's ultimate destination.

Once the cargo was loaded on board the Hakudu Maru; the ship would be piloted out along the straight, sail through the Visyan Sea, navigating around several of the smaller islands, then up past the northern tip of Samar Island, then out into the Philippine Sea and the Pacific ocean, this was all he knew...after that he had no clue where it would be heading. The logical choice would be Hawaii... but he had no proof and the other crew members were just as much in the dark as he. Illya did some careful investigating; searching the Captain's cabin, checking his logs, navigational charts...but found nothing to indicate their destination.

There seemed to be only two men on board the Maru that knew where they were headed, one was the Captain...Takara Yoshida, a retired naval officer with the Japanese Imperial Navy, and a man named Aldous Baader, a member of the Stasi, the East German secret police but also having ties with THRUSH. Baader had now had begun to double-deal on the side, selling arms to the highest bidder; presumably to build up a little "nest egg" for himself allowing him to retire from the world of espionage.

Illya had picked the lock on Baader's cabin door one evening at the beginning of the trip hoping to find some clues, quickly searching through the man's possessions and desk, when he heard footseps and a key being put into the lock! He turned his head about in a panic, looking for cover, the only place being beneath the large desk and he ducked just as the cabin door opened.

Illya held his breath as the man walked around the room. Then he heard Baader speak, as he must have had some sort of communications device.

" No te preocupes mi querido General_ do not worry, my dear General" Baader spoke in Spanish. No one knows where we are headed but myself and Captain Yoshida. You and I will be very rich men soon...the millions your supporters are paying me for supplying them with the armaments and you General after staging your successful coup, will have your own country."Baader then laughed" I will contact you and your dealer as we near port...Baader out."

Then Illya heard him walk dangerously close to the desk. He could smell the stench of a strong Cuban cigar as the man lit up...then he heard the footsteps walk away and the bathroom door open and close. Illya let go his breath, crawled out from under the desk and quickly exited the cabin, not making a sound.

This tidbit of information put the mission into a different light...as killing the arms dealer might be inadvisable until he was able to discover the identity of the one Baader called the "General." He held off contacting headquarters, still being under radio silence;that, he would not break until he knew where the ship was headed.

Every day the ship's pilot was given his coordinates and would direct the ship as ordered...changing course sometime multiple times in a day. Illya had planted a bug in the pilot house, but none of the course changes made any sense as he checked them against a navigational chart that he had secreted away in a book that he was reading...a Russian book printed in Cyrillic, so no one would have any interest in it, even the other Russian members of the crew, who were apparently illiterate...

Not only did UNCLE want Baader out business; but THRUSH did as well. Waverly had said the talk on the THRUSH lines of communication indicated they were not happy with Baader. He was upsetting the "apple cart" for them in their quest of ultimate world domination... and it would have come as no surprise to Kuryakin if there was a THRUSH agent on board the Hakudo Maru as well. Like THRUSH, UNCLE wanted Baader, and the shipment, but unlike them, Uncle wanted the identity of the "buyer" for the shipload of military might the Maru now carried and Kuryakin was given a "special" order to terminate the now because the information about the General and his coup had come to light...that complicated things quite a bit. Illya now planned to return to Baader's room and plant a bug there as well.

The order to terminate did not phase Illya in the least when Waverly issued it to him. All UNCLE agents were prepared to kill when necessary, but the use of tranquilizer rounds in their arsenal was the more preferred method of dispatching an adversary, rather than killing outright, UNCLE after all were the "good guys" and assassination was something UNCLE just did not do...or so that's what most members of the agency were lead to believe. But sometimes assassination was a necessary evil, so section one therefore formed a special group of "elite" agents who's identities were kept secret, even from each other. The knowledge of it's existence was held by only a privileged few within the upper ranks of UNCLE.

These agents were part of the "Archangels", as it was dubbed" and Illya Kuryakin was one of only seven agents who were potentially given such drastic orders; he, carrying them out under the codename known only as "Gabriel" and Gabriel had been give such an order only once before.

Being an Archangel required the talents of an agent who was capable of a performing a cold blooded act such as assassination without reservation. Kuryakin, though a passionate man, was also very private and he kept his feeling under "lock and key, keeping them well compartmentalized and guarded from others, even from his friend Napoleon; yet he was very much a man capable of carrying out such an extreme order. But he also knew that there would come the day that he might refuse to carry such and order out refusing to comply on some moral ground, as he was not an amoral man. And that was, he guessed, why Alexander Waverly had chosen him for the position. Illya was not a heartless killer and that's not what UNCLE wanted him to be. It might bother him in some way killing a target in that manner; but if it did, he kept that to himself and fullfiled his duty none the less. To everyone but his partner, Napoleon Solo, Kuryakin outwardly deserved the nickname the "Ice Prince."

While on board the Hakudu Maru, Illya was able to only maintain very limited contact with UNCLE headquarters in Manila as they were under strict "communications" silence and not to respond to his transmissions. He would simply open his communicator allowing it to be "pinged" for headquarters to get a signal, allowing them home-in and pinpoint his location. UNCLE knew where the ship was in the middle of the Pacific ocean, unlike Illya, who had no idea just exactly where it was at any given moment.

Every time he sensed a change in course, he would send out the signal for them to get a fix on the position. The beauty of this plan was that every time he had his communicator pen out, he would pretend to be writing in a small notebook that he carried with him... recipes written surreptitiously into the book in his extremely neat handwriting; he would tell the crew it was his idea book for preparing their meals and keeping track of the menu. And if someone looked in the book, they would see exactly what he said there would be...recipes and nothing more...no hidden codes or notes...just plain ordinary everyday recipes and menu plans.

The crew was a mix of mostly Japanese, Filipino, Spanish and even a pair of Russians...a smorgasbord of languages, and luckily Illya understood and spoke every one of them fluently. He used only Russian and broken English as part of his cover, allowing him to eavesdrop on the other members of the crew with ease. Sometimes information could be gotten more easily from simply listening in on the day to day conversations of underlings than from all the covert expeditions into private files, papers and documents. He would pass the time when not snooping around the ship or working in the galley, playing chess with the two Russian crewmen, drinking vodka and smoking Turkish cigarettes. The men though not very likable, helped him maintain his cover. Members of the crew tended to stick with their own, and a least some poorly played games of chess, and being able to speak his native language helped pass the time as the ship travelled slowly and erratically toward it's ultimate destination.

Finally Illya's patience paid off, when he over heard a conversation between Goro Shimizu and one of the other Japanese seamen as they stood near an open hatchway, leading out to the deck. Apparently the first mate, Goro, was the Captain's confidant. Illya had to be careful of Shimizu though, as he was suspicious of the Russian and always seemed to be keeping an eye on him.

"Saigo ni watashi-tachi wa Honoruru de ikutsu ka no honmono no sushi e ero koto ga dekiru koto..."said Goro in Japanese "then we won't have to eat that slop the Russian gives us...have you noticed how he is always skulking around the ship with that note pad of his...I think he might be some sort of spy or something..."

"No Goro," said the seaman" I have seen the book, it is nothing but his silly recipes...and besides, why would a spy be on board the Maru? We're just a cargo ship."

"Ah...but the cargo is no ordinary one and is strictly off limits...under lock and key. It is something of great value..."said Goro "that man Baader and the Captain, they talk a lot. I think they have some big deal going on and I think I am going to be given a share of the profits for my loyal service. He was now bragging based on pure supposition.

"And how do you know this Goro?"

"Because, the Captain tells me things...after all, my father served with him during the war" he bragged, trying to make himself seem special to the other seaman. "It was he who told me we are heading to Honolulu... all this time our next port of call has been kept a big secret to you all had it not...but not me!'

The seaman, being none too bright, was impressed at Goro's apparent position of importance with the Captain

"If you utter one word of this" Goro threatened shoving the man back. "I will throw you overboard and they will think that it was "Futsushi, the god of sea and storms who took you!"

"I swear Goro!" whimpered the now frightened man" I will say nothing! You have my word!" He bowed several times to Goro as he spoke."Watashi no sosen no meiyo nikakete_ upon the honor of my ancestors!"

Illya had heard all he needed... Goro spoke about "finally eating good sushi in Honolulu"... and now Kuryakin had his suspicions about Hawaii confirmed. He would have to risk breaking communications silence, calling overseas relay to let Waverly know their final port of call and the intel about the General and the impending coup. It would be Waverly who would make the arrangements for Illya's backup team from the Honolulu office of UNCLE. Once the shipment was followed to the buyer's location; Illya would fulfill his assignment by capturing the buyer instead of killing him as well as taking Baader and the Captain into custody and seizing the cargo. Then he and the agents of the Honolulu office would go about the business of interrogating the prisoners...something Illya was very good at. He would find out who this "General" was...

But as Illya listened in on Goro and the seaman, the ship suddenly surged again and he was thrown out of his hiding place in the corridor, stumbling right out in front of Shimizu and the other seaman.

Goro instantly stopped the conversation when he saw "Cookie" and demanded to know why he was eavesdropping on them? At first he spoke in Japanese looking for any reaction from the Russian at his words...but when he saw none; he switched to English.

"What you doing...listening in on us?" he demanded.

"Nyet!" Illya said, taking on a very submissive posture." I no listen...no speak your language...was coming up deck for air...not feel so good from storm da?" In part, Illya was being truthful...

Goro, satisfied for the moment, waved the Russian past with a look of distain then pushed Illya with a laugh, forcing him out through the door onto the deck in the pouring rain. He walked out of sight, immediately heading down to another hatchway located towards the aft of the vessel, grabbing onto what ever he could to save himself from being washed over board as the waves began to crash onto the deck. The storm was increasing in it's intensity.

Illya returned below, soaked to the skin and decided that it was time that he got a better look at the cargo in the secure hold. He knew what it was; he just did not know how much of it was there... so after changing his clothes he headed to the aft cargo hold. The rest of the crew was preoccupied with dealing with the storm as it was difficult to work with the unpredictable movement of the ship and now quite a few of them were suffering from sea sickness as well, but unlike the Russian, they had reported to the ship's infirmary and had been given tablets that virtually "knocked" them out.

Illya was able to pick the padlock on the chain that secured the hatch to the cargo bay and once inside he found himself somewhat surprised. There was enough weapons, and explosives to start a small war...or a revolution! He pulled out his communicator to call New York.

"Open channel D, overseas relay, Waverly"

"Mr. Kuryakin...I thought you were to maintain radio silence on this mission?" said Wavery.

"Yes sir...but I have just confirmed our destination...it's Honolulu. There is also another complication that has arisen...I overheard Baader speaking to a man he addressed as General, and there was discussion of these arms being purchased to support a coup. Can you please have a backup team assembled and ready in Honolulu? I think capturing the buyer would be more to our advantage at this time. I will begin to ping more frequently...

"Consider it done. I'll expect to hear from you the moment you approach Honolulu." Waverly out.

Suddenly the ship was knocked violently sending the crates and Illya careening across the hold, the lights went out and he was there struggling to right himself in total darkness, his communicator lost somewhere in the darkness. He realized as he tried to stand that it felt as though the ship was on it's side!

Emergency lights popped on seconds later, bathing Illya and the mess in the cargo hold in an eerie red glow, confirming to him that the Maru was listing dangerously to one side!

A few moments later a claxon alarm broke the silence and the Captain began making an announcement. The ship had been hit by a "rogue" wave and now was listing in the water to her port side and was taking on water...the ship was sinking and fast. All hands were to report to the life boats and abandon ship!

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in here?"demanded a heavily accented German voice behind Kuryakin. He recognized it instantly as that of Aldous Baader.

Illya turned slowly to face him, dropping the pretense of his cover, as he knew the shipment was not going to be delivered now...I am Illya Kuryakin, of UNCLE and I was sent here to stop you." he said coldly.

Baader suddenly pulled a handgun getting a shot off at Illya, but the Russian dove behind a crate for cover and narrowly missed being hit.

"Baader, the ship is sinking...why bother" Illya called out.

He was answered by another shot that ricocheted off the crate that gave Illya his cover. In an instant Kuryakin reached up over it, took aim and hit Baader; the man collapsed to the floor, and Illya assumed he was dead...as he rarely missed when intending to kill.

Kuryakin had to make a decision...the ship was sinking along with a very dangerous and valuable cargo that would become the prime target of those who hunted for salvage. It would be worth millions on the open market...and Illya was sure the "buyer" would still want his goods. There was nothing to do however, but blow the shipment up to prevent it's recovery.


	2. Chapter 2

Napoleon Solo was in his office that he shared with his parter, Illya Kuryakin who at present was away on a mission that had lasted over a month now. He actually found himself missing the surly Russian's company.

Through the years of their partnership he and Kuryakin had become friends, the best of friends actually. That was what helped make them such a successful team, they knew each other "that" well and could practically read each others minds and predict the other's next move when on a mission...hell sometimes they even finished each other's sentences.

Solo was missing him now particularly when it came time to writing his own field reports; he hated doing paperwork and had little patience for it; where as Illya being a touch-typist and could whip off a report in no time. But in the mean time, in his partner's absence; Napoleon had smooth-talked one of the secretaries from the pool into typing up his reports and files for him with promises of dinner and dancing. His reputation among the ladies was quite well known, and the girls at headquarters were always eager for Napoleon Solo's attentions.

But Napoleon realized as he sat thinking about the Russian; that his knowledge of his partner was limited to more of a professional nature than a personal one. He knew very little about Illya's outside of work...his background, his family, his life before UNCLE.

He knew the Russian's fondness for jazz, chess, vodka and of course food. He was quiet,he hated dogs...liked cats and had a dry sense of humor that he let show once in a rare while, unlike his other feelings. He could be a bit on the competitive side but was very much a gentleman and always polite...hell he even apologized for hitting someone in the middle of a fist fight once...

He knew that Illya liked women but was very private about his dealings with them, and generally paid little attention to them until recently, when someone new to the New York office had caught the Russian's interest...but Napoleon was the only one that knew about their liasons...having followed Illya one night to the young ladies' apartment. Napoleon was sworn to an oath of secrecy upon threat of death by Kuryakin followed by a string of Russian expletives for having been discovered by his partner. Napoleon would have deferred to his friend's wishes even without the threat...but just got a kick out of seeing Illya lose his cool was worth it teasing him about having a "girlfriend." He actually though it would do the Russian some good, have some female companionship. Napoleon promised to keep Illya's secret safe...knowing and respecting how private his friend was. He knew that once a gossip got out on the rumor-mill at headquarters, it haunted people for a long time...and Illya Kuryakin was not one to tolerate being the subject of prattle and gossip.

Napoleon realized there was nothing of real substance that he knew about the man. Illya's apartment was located two floors below in the same building that Solo lived in. It was sparingly furnished, neat...Spartan; as if the man could leave with all he owned in a moment's notice. A small shelf filled with books, mostly technical, and foreign language, and stacks of scientific journals were the only things of a vaguely personal nature that were visible. That was it...no photographs, no mementos of a past life or love. Nothing.

Napoleon had once managed to get into Waverly's private files when the "Old Man" was undergoing minor surgery, and Solo was left in charge...temporarily. The only information of a personal nature in Kuryakin's dossier was Illya's real birthday...which Illya had always lied about, his age, also lied about to Solo...Illya was four years his junior not two. He also discovered that Illya was born in Kiev, orphaned during the war as were countless other children, then raised by the Soviet State. He was groomed for his position in the GRU as a young boy by a now former member of the Soviet Intelligence Directorate named Colonel Viktor Karkoff, who acted as his sponsor. And that was it. Again nothing...the man was a mystery.

The most important thing that Napoleon Solo knew about Illya Kuryakin, was that he trusted the man implicitly with his life and that Illya trusted him as well. That was all that mattered in the end...that they could count on each other to be there when needed. They both operated on the "no man left behind" philosophy when it came to each other.

Napoleon had just received a call from Waverly's assistant Lisa Rogers telling him that the boss wished to see him immediately in his conference room. Solo as usual straightened his tie and smoothed his hair just before the door to the office opened silently and Napoleon sauntered in and over to Waverly's circular conference table.

"Oh...yes Mr. Solo, please be seated." said Waverly

Napoleon sat himself across the table from Waverly,expecting to be given his next assignment and briefed on some THRUSH satrap that needed taking out...or something along that line...if there were some crazy scientist involved; then of course he'd wished Illya would be there...

Alexander Waverly said nothing at first, as if he were stalling for some reason... hesitating, he tapped his pipe in the ashtray in front of him emptying the contents of the bowl...then finally spoke.

Napoleon did not like the look on the man's face.

"Mr. Solo, I am afraid I have some unfortunate news to give you...as you are aware, Mr. Kuryakin was on assignment tracking a rather substantial arms shipment under the control of Aldous Baader, formerly of THRUSH.

"Formerly Sir?"

"Yes...formerly. Our monitoring of THRUSH channels has indicated that Baader once Stasi, has now abandoned his position with THRUSH as well and is now apparently involved in brokering and supplying arms to the highest bidder.

Mr. Kuryakin was on board a vessel, along with Baader that had departed the Philippines approximately two weeks ago carrying such a shipment. The last communication from received by me a week ago reported the Japanese cargo ship was headed for Hawaii...specifically Honolulu. Last night I received a report that the ship, the Hakudu Maru had issued a distress call the day of Mr. Kuryakin's message to me. The ship had been hit by a rogue wave during a storm and was sinking.

The U.S. Coastguard was dispatched to the last known coordinates of the the Hakudu Maru...they found nothing but debris and an oil slick stretching for miles. Several capsized life boats were located, but no bodies. They have officially called off the search and are listing all hands lost at sea...I am so very sorry Mr. Solo, but these things happen and are part of the job but you do have my deepest condolences... Mr. Kuryakin will be missed. If you feel the need; you may take some time off.

Napoleon blanched at the news" Sir isn't there any chance...I mean you know Illya...Mr. Kuryakin. He's managed to survive the worst scenarios over the years?"

"Mr. Solo that is wishful thinking" said Waverly "you need to accept it... the fact of the matter is that your partner is dead. Now go home...have a stiff drink...take some time off. I will need you to have your wits about you when you return to work sooner than later. Now dismissed.

Napoleon was angry at Waverly's callous tone of voice but he didn't show it to the man, and simply left without another word being said.

Word spread like wildfire around headquarters that Illya Kuryakin had been lost on a mission and was declared dead. Before Napoleon could get out of the building he was deluged with well meaning visitors and telephone calls of sympathy. The last person to walk into his office was April Dancer who said nothing, but simply wrapped her arms around Napoleon, offering him what little comfort she could.

When April Dancer heard the news about Illya; she had been sitting in the commissary chatting with some of the secretaries and another female section two agent...the only other female section two agent besides herself, as a matter of fact.

April couldn't control her grief and began to cry. She had always liked Illya and had worked with him on a number of assignments. She understood what it was like to singled out in the agency, he being the only Russian, and she being the only female agent, until a second woman finally joined section two in Europe just over two years ago. And now that woman sat at the table with her having transferred from the London office eight months ago...she sat across from April looking at her with a blank expression as she cried at the loss of Kuryakin.

"I'm sorry...I have to go see Napoleon" April whispered suddenly as she wiped her eyes with a tissue, then hurried off leaving the woman alone.

The petite red head remained at the table for a few minutes, trying to maintain her composure, and was sure that April Dancer had not seen her reaction, as she was too busy dealing with her own grief. She rose from the table in a daze... filled with emptiness and feeling the need to get out of headquarters.

She went home to her apartment, but had no memory of the journey there... as she stepped inside she just let her eyes wander around the rooms, looking for the little things left here and there that belonged to him...a book, a pair of his reading glasses. In the bedroom she picked up a black turtleneck he'd left draped across the back of her chair...she held it to her face, breathing in his scent that still remained on it, even after a month. Then she sobbed, finally releasing her grief. She had left it lay there just to make herself feel like he was around, knowing he would be away on this long assignment but eventually coming back to retrieve it. And now he would never be back...

They had both agreed that was a possibility that faced them both, but they both faced it sometimes in denial as they sought comfort with each other

.

She lay down on the bed gathering one of the pillows to her, holding it close, still clutching the turtle neck in her hands and fell asleep. When she woke sometime later, she looked to the door, hoping that if she believed hard enough...he would walk through it and into her arms. But she stopped herself, knowing that it wasn't going to be.

When she finally rose from the bed walking over to her dresser, she began to remove her earrings, then she noticed something white sticking out from underneath her small jewelry box...she lifted it; finding an envelope with her name written on the front of it in Illya's careful script and wondered how she hadn't seen it before.

She took it with her out to the table and sat down as she opened it...

"Oh my God!" she gasped as she began to read it...wiping more tears from her eyes...

She suddenly stopped for a moment, whispering a prayer in Irish..."Daor Dia do thoil...Ní cead dó a bheith marbh...a shábháil dó...thabhairt ar ais chugam_Please dear God...don't let him be dead...save him...bring him back to me?

She returned her attention to the the letter that was written in Russian, it began..."Moy Annushka, YA nikogda ne pisal pis'mo, kak eto_ I have never written a letter such as this before and I find myself lacking the words.

Let me begin then with a quote from Tolstoy..." I already love in your beauty, but I am only beginning to love you in that which is eternal and ever precious_your heart and soul. Beauty one could get to know can fall in love within one hour and cease to love it as speedily, but the soul one must learn to know. Believe me, nothing on earth is given without labour, even love, the most beautiful and natural of feelings"

I am not a man of great imagination and it is difficult for me to release my feelings from the prison I have built for them...but you have unlocked the door and shown me what it is to love again and be loved. I find myself thinking of you many times during the day and crave to be with you...to be touched and held by you and lose myself in your embrace. I love you Annushka...I can not say it any better way. If there truly is an afterlife, then my love for you will be for all eternity. You are moy lybimyí_ my beloved...I only hope that I am worthy of your love.

Your Illuysha

She read the letter again...as a single tear fell onto the paper and she quickly brushed it away with her hand. She could not believe it...he was gone...the man that poured his heart out to her in this wonderful love letter, was dead.

She took the key to his apartment that he had made for her and went to it; arriving there in less than fifteen minutes and she let herself in, punching in the code to his alarm.

He sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought as he suddenly heard the the door and quickly drew his weapon, stepping from the bedroom pointing it straight at the intruder, putting the barest of pressure on the trigger.

"Jesus Christ, Elliott!" Napoleon swore" I almost shot you!" he growled, holstering his gun, walking straight over to her.

"Oh God Napoleon t'isn't true is it?" she spoke softly" ye don't believe it do ye?" her Irish accent had become thicker...as it always had done when she was under stress and could only suppress it when she was undercover on assignment. " Jay-sus, I just can't believe he's gone..." she finally sobbed.

"No honey...I don't want to believe it either..." Napoleon whispered, taking her into his strong arms and holding her close to him,"It's OK...let it go," he said, holding back his own tears for when he was alone. He stroked her soft red hair gently until her crying ceased.

Napoleon pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her to wipe the tears and mascara that had run down her cheeks, then walked over to Illya's freezer pulling out an ice cold bottle of vodka and grabbing two glasses from a cabinet, he poured drinks for the two of them...


	3. Chapter 3

Illya quickly searched among the crates that had smashed open after they had been tossed when the ship was jolted to it's side. He found what he needed in only a precious few minutes... just a few explosive devices needed to trigger it all to detonate; he set the timers, giving himself just enough time to get above deck and into one of the life boats... he hoped, assuming the whole thing just did not blow up in his face before he made it into one of the boats. He counted aloud, down from ninety as he ran, striding the steps two and three at a time, pulling himself up by the railings.

He got to the deck gasping for breath with twenty seconds to spare, but looking around, his heart sank...the life boats were all gone, disappeared somewhere on the the raging waters with the rest of the crew... he was too late. The rain driven side ways by the howling wind lashed against him, stinging his face as the waves crashed across the deck as the Maru continued to flounder; pounding him as grabbed the railing with both his hands. He waited for the explosions and for what he was sure was the end of his life.

It was daylight when Illya awoke. face down on a sandy beach, dazed and confused; his head pounding, his ears hurt... almost every muscle in his body crying out to him as he finally moved. The last thing he remembered was the initial concussion as everything in the hold began to go off in a cascade of explosions.

He pulled himself up to his feet with a moan spitting sand from his mouth. He found he was missing one of his boots and pulled the remaining one off, discarding it, walking along the sand in his bare feet. He looked up and down the strand, seeing no one and nothing but bits of wreckage that he assumed were from the Haruku Maru. The ocean was now calm... glass-like, as the waves foamed gently up onto the sand. He shaded his eyes with his hands as he scanned the water, but there was nothing there to see.

He walked a little farther up the beach, feeling drained of all his energy; and hearing the rumble of thunder in the distance, he looked looked to the sky seeing the flash of lightening in darkening clouds that loomed out over the water. Another storm was coming his way. He wandered until he found shelter in a weather-worn cave along the shore line about a mile or so from where he first woke and curled up there sheltered from the approaching storm and went to sleep.

When he awoke to the soft rumbles of thunder, it was raining...the drops of water falling outside the cave and the calm waves as they washed in were the only other sounds that he heard...he cupped his hands, filling them with rain water as it trickled down, drinking it greedily.

His thoughts drifted to her...the letter he had left on her dresser before the last night they had spent together, making love until the early morning hours. He had hoped she felt about him the way he did about her. He risked opening his heart to her, but now he might ever know for sure if it was worth taking the chance... he realized Napoleon, this time would not be coming to his rescue. No one would because no one knew that he was still alive and even where he was...where ever this was? Illya suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable; feelings he had not dealt with since he was very young...

Illy remained in the cave, sleeping through the night as it rained and the next morning when the storm had passed, he began to explore, it appeared to be an an atoll... not very large as he managed to walk almost the full circumference in a few hours. The far side was nothing but jagged rocks with no beach what so ever. While he walked, he found a source of fresh water near it's center, a fresh water pool protected by a lining of palm trees and large tropical plants.

There were plenty of birds and parrots in the trees, squawking and chirping as he moved about... a source of food, if he could fashion a sling shot.

But that would require fire...he suddenly had a thought, and felt his pant pockets. Yes! They were still there...a pair of his reading glasses; he could use the power of the tropical sun and the lenses to ignite tinder for a fire. In his other pocket was his pocket knife...this was definitely good!

And as he walked along continuing to explore, iguanas hidden in the trees came down to look at him, obviously they were unaccustomed to humans and unafraid of him and would scurry in front of him as he continued to move along the sandy beach. He walked down to a tidal pool, finding small fish and crabs scuttling about the rocks; he knew he would have enough food to survive for now. The cave would do for his shelter until he could build some thing more visible... he needed to stay on the beach and maintain a signal fire.. He refused in spite of the overwhelming odds against it, to give up the possibility of a rescue.

As he continued along the rocks near the tidal pools, he suddenly heard it...a whimpering sound... like a dog! He had remembered hearing a one barking on the Maru, but happily, never saw it. Then when he went further along the rocks he found it... a large white dog entangled and trapped in netting on an outcrop along the water's edge.

It had to be the same one from the ship and it began to bark as soon as it spotted him. Illya hated dogs...in truth he actually feared them, but something in him could not bear to see the animal trapped so...as it would surely die. So he set about freeing it and after a few snaps from the dog, it settled down and stopped struggling, realizing that Illya was not going to harm it...at least not for now. He had not eaten dog meat in a very long time, and was not sure that he wanted to do it again. Illya finally untangled the last of the netting, setting the beast free...the ungrateful creature took off down the beach at a dead run, which was fine by him!

Kuryakin spent the rest of the day settling in his camp on the beach, starting his fire and having it burning within minutes. Then he used his pocket knife to whittle a narrow branch into a sharpened spear that he used to kill some the fish in the pond; he roasted these on a spit in the fire, drank sweet coconut milk and meat from a few that had fallen from the palm trees, then sighed, feeling satisfied by his first real meal as a castaway.

Another storm blew in that night and Illya was forced to abandon the signal fire, retreating again to the cave for shelter. He used the coconut husks to catch the water, rather than making a trip in the rain to the fresh water pool. The next day he began the work of constructing a lean-to that would offer him protection on the beach, dragging fallen trees and sturdy branches to act as the frame, he would cover it with palm fronds and banana leaves. The shelter would allow him to stay on the beach and maintain his fire, hoping that some ship or plane passing by might see it and investigate.

The shelter was half finished and Illya found himself getting hungry. He dug a shallow pit, lining it with rocks, then set a cooking fire in it; roasting crab, fish and coconuts, baking them under a layer of large green banana leaves. When he was done with his feast, he felt sleepy and simply laid down in the sand on his stomach dozing off, letting the sun warm his sore muscles...when suddenly his senses made him aware of something; he lifted his head slowly... coming face to face with what looked like a cobra!

The reptile rose, flaring it's hood, swaying back and forth in front of the Russian as he stared at it, maintaining eye contact, but not moving a muscle. He could not recall that there were any of the cobra species beyond Australia, and wondered how this one got here? Illya remained frozen, as there was no escaping the lightning strike of a cobra from the position he lay in. He only hoped that if he did not move; the snake would not perceive him as a threat and eventually move on.

It seemed as though he remained still for an eternity, and he was starting to get tired holding the same position for so long, his neck pained him as he held his head up. The snake was not retreating, and it was only a matter of time before Illya flinched and the cobra struck.

Suddenly a blur appeared to the left, he could see it just out of the corner of his eye; distracting the snake long enough for Illya to quickly roll out of harms way...the dog had charged the cobra and had it's head in it's jaws in a second, shaking it violently until the snake ceased it's thrashing.

Illya got to his feet in an instant, heading up and into a tree, out of the reach of the dog. It came towards the tree Illya was now perched in, dragggin the carcass of the snake in it's jaws... then dropped it at the base; then began to bark looking up at him.

"Go away dog!" Illya yelled down at it "Uhodit'!_Go Away!" he said in Russian. "Tachisaru! Umalis!" he repeated it in Japanese, then Filippino.

The dog ceased it's barking, eyeing him, then turned away disappearing back among the trees where it apparently came from, leaving the remains of the snake behind.

Illya waited a few minutes, then hopped down to the ground, retrieving the body of the snake...smiling as he whispered the word..."dinner."

He stripped the skin, cleaning the meat in fresh water, then let it marinate in a brine of salt water and coconut milk and and seaweed. Later that afternoon, he skewered the meat on a long stick and roasted it over the fire, then after it had roasted for a bit, he cut off a piece of meat, tasting it and found it quite good.

Suddenly the dog appeared again out of no where. "Der'mo_shit! Illya cursed as he stumbled backwards, trying to stand to get away.

He held his pocketknife out in front of him defensively, but the dog did not move towards him. It then sat beside the fire...wimpering just a little, eyeing the snake that was till roasting on the skewer.

"Are you hungry?' Illya said nervously"...if I give you food, you will not bite me? He thought of the absurdity of speaking to a dumb animal, as if it could really understand him?

Illya moved closer to the fire cautiously, then cutting off a substantial piece of the snake meat, he tossed it over near the dog.

"There...now go! Leave me alone...GO AWAY!" he called.

It grabbed the meat and took off down the beach.

Illya sighed in relief, but knew now he had to be on his guard, as the dog would probably return. He ate the rest of the snake, without being disturbed, washing it down with a chaser of coconut milk.

By the next day, Illya had completed his lean-to... it would do, but as he sat beside the fire and looked at it, he realized how pitiful looking it was.

By the seventh day, boredom had begun to creep in...he stayed aware of his surroundings though luckily he had not seen the dog again since that day it saved him from the cobra. He sat down at the water's edge using a small stick to scratch mathematical equations in the wet sand, just to keep his mind busy and not focusing on his loneliness. He was missing Elliott terribly and he had to force himself not to think about her, as he found his sadness to be overwhelming. Illya reminded himself that he had to stay strong and confidant; that he would somehow be rescued and reunited with his Annushka...

He thought about what Napoleon would do, what sort of plan his clever mind would come up with...but unfortunately he was not like his partner...so the best idea he had was to maintain the fire and keeping it built high. For the moment, there was plenty of driftwood along the shore that he could use, when that was gone, he would start using wood from further in the atoll.

He had found a couple of plastic containers washed up on the beach, and now had something to keep his fresh water in rather than making frequent trips to the pool in the interior of the atoll, so his camp was now fairly comfortable. He lean-to was sufficient, he had fresh water within reach, enough food and a good fire. He just had to avoid the dog, and any other unwanted creature, hoping the cobra had been the only one on the atoll and he would be alright for now.

He began notching one of the palm trees with his knife, to count the days he had spent marooned, and on the twelfth day he spotted something large and metallic, shining in the sun along the water's edge. Once closer, he realized it was his silver brief case...how it survived the explosions and washed up here was near impossible odds! He hoped against even greater odds that what was inside the case was dry and undamaged!


	4. Chapter 4

Illya picked up the case, forcing himself not to open it just yet. The outside of it was dented heavily, but the seal seemed to be intact and the case was still closed tightly. He walked back to his camp, setting it carefully down in the sand, then entered the combination to unlock it...and then "click" it opened... the contents looked to be completely undamaged and dry.

At first his heart pounded with excitement. "R & D" said these cases were waterproof and apparently they had not been joking." he said aloud. He reached inside picking up a silver cigarette case, pulling it by the bottom to reveal the older style communicator, the predecessor to the streamlined pen.

Illya turned the dial slowly at first, hearing only static...then when he found the right setting he spoke into the device.

" Open Channel D overseas relay...Emergency...Kuryakin here."

At first there was only more static but then he heard the familiar voice...it was Dolores in communications!

"Illya... oh my God is it really you? They said you were dead!"

"The reports of my demise though understandable, are a bit premature...I assure you I am alive and well.."he finally smiled.

"Where are you Illya?"

"Good question...I am on a small atoll somewhere in the Pacific ocean...other than that, I have no clue."

He could hear the excitement rising in Dolores' voice as she spoke."Keep your communicator open, we'll get a fix on your location in a few minutes."

"Will do!" he said happily "Dolores...where is Napoleon?"

"Illya...he's in Hawaii. Waverly told him to take some time off, and a good thing...he was like a caged animal after he got the news about you. He wasn't sleeping at all. He wasn't satisfied with the Coast Guard ending their search for survivors...that's why he went to Hawaii, he's looking for you. He's been out in a company helicopter searching for you...every day from what I hear!"

"Dolores...please do me a favor and let him know I am alright and ask him to give the news to another of our associates...he will know who."

"Absolutely!... O.K. we have a fix on your location. A rescue helicopter from Honolulu will be dispatched shortly..."

"Thank you Dolores" he sighed in relief " can you patch me through to Mr. Waverly?

"Yes...one moment please" Dolores was all about being back to business now.

A moment later Illya heard the familiar voice,"Mr. Kuyakin! Delighted that you are still with us...what have you to report?

That was typical of the "Old Man" thought the Russian, never wasting time in getting directly to the heart of the matter. " The Hakudu Maru foundered after being hit by a rogue wave during a violent storm" Illya answered"...I destroyed the shipment, rigging it to explode as the ship sank...thereby rendering it un-salvageable sir. As far as I am aware, there were no survivors left on board. Baader is dead...I killed him myself."

"Well done Mr. Kuryakin, that was a most prudent decision on your part...and you are correct in your assumptions, apparently you are the sole survivor...I will expect your full report in writing upon your return."Waverly out.

And that was that...Waverly was a man of few words. Illya found himself feeling badly about the crew though, with the exception of Goro, they had not been a bad lot. He took cold comfort that they died at the hands of mother nature and not at his.

Illya kept the communicator open, laying it on his thigh as he sat down in the sand, leaning back against a palm tree, happily waiting for the rescue chopper to arrive...he knew Napoleon would be on it and he smiled knowing that his partner, as always had not given up on him.

He wished desperately to speak to Elliott, but knew better than to have a conversation that would obviously be of an extremely private and personal nature on an UNCLE communications channel. Some of the comm specialists were not above eavesdropping on conversations and his and Elliotts' "relationship" was the last thing he wanted people to know about. He also knew that he could rely on Napoleon to deliver a discreet message to her, that he was fine. He would call her via landline once he reached Honolulu.

He leaned his head back, deciding to take a nap, assured now that his rescue would be within the hour...when he heard the sound of a gun being cocked and human voice...but this time, not coming from the communicator.

"Well Kuryakin...managed to survive did you..sohn einer hure_son of a whore!" It was Aldous Baader.

"And I see you survived as well..how unlike me to have failed at killing you," Illya spoke dryly, as if Baader still being alive left him completely unfazed.

Illya got up slowly, to a crouched position...Baader was behind him and he turned his head following the man as he walked around in front of him, all the while aiming the gun at Kuryakin.

"UNCLE is on the way here Baader...why not just give it up" said Illya.

"You do have balls Kuryakin"smiled Baader" how about I just kill you for the fun of it...just a little a little payback for trying to kill me. Say your prayers Russian...oh that's right" he laughed, " you don't pray, do you?"

Illya grabbed a fist full of sand tossing it into Baader's eyes, then drove himself up into the man's midsection, grabbing the Baader's wrist; the two men wrestled for the possession of the gun. Illya pushed against the larger man, knocking him off balance and onto the sand. Illya was on top of Baader when the gun went off in the struggle, hitting the Russian in the shoulder; he passed out as he rolled off the man onto the sand.

Baader now breathless, pulled himself up to his knees aiming the pistol at the unconscious Kuryakin...when suddenly the dog came out of no where, grabbing the German's wrist. He screamed as the animal bit down with it's powerful jaws snapping his bones, forcing the man to drop the weapon. The dog released the wrist and dove for the man's throat...Baader's gurgling screams faded as he struggled less and less, then he went silent.

The dog turned from the body of Aldous Baader and toward Illya, jumping at the Russian...licking his face until Illya woke with a fright, finding the dog on top of him. He tried pushing away with his heels, using his good arm to protect his face and neck. Then he stopped, realizing the animal was not trying to harm him. It stepped off his chest laying down next to him, panting heavily, the white fur around it's mouth stained with the German's blood.

Illya looked the dog in the eyes...then feeling light- headed, he laid his head back down on the sand, passing out again. When he awoke again, he was being carried on a stretcher toward a Heuy helicopter and Napoleon Solo was beside him, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Illya tried to speak, but Napoleon was unable to hear his partner with the whirling of the blades and roar of the engine and signalled to him that it was no good.

Illya suddenly grabbed him by the jacket, pulling him down close to his face."DOG!" he yelled."NOT LEAVING WITHOUT IT..."

Napoleon stood back up, a look of confusion in his eyes.

"WHAT DID HE SAY SIR?" called one of the medics, as he pushed the stretcher into the helicopter, securing it in place.

"HE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT A DOG AND REFUSING TO LEAVE WITHOUT IT" yelled Solo." not understanding this at all, since he knew Illya had a phobia about dogs.

"SIR..." the man called back."YOUR PARTNER IS WOUNDED...WE CAN'T WANT FOR ANY DOG!

Solo shook his head no, telling the medics to treat the wound and gave the kill sign for the pilot to shut down...the medic pronounced Illya's gunshot wound was not grave, and administered first aide...it was a through and through, there was no bullet to be removed.

So humoring his stubborn partner, Napoleon and one of the crew of the Huey went in search of the dog. Twenty minutes later, the crewman returned with a fairly large white dog...looking like some sort of bull terrier, in tow on a length of rope. The man raised the dog for Kuryakin to see and the Russian lifted his oxygen mask and said "YES", then the pilot started up the chopper. Kuryakin could hear the pilot speaking on the radio as the chopper warmed up.

"What is your status 5359?"

"This is medi-vac 5359 preparing for take off...ETA Honolulu 50 minutes...I repeat ETA Honolulu 50 minutes."

"Copy that 5359"

Illya felt the helicopter rise into the air with Napoleon and the dog sitting beside him... he reached out scratching the dog's ear for a minute before he closed his eyes again. He finally woke in the medical wing of UNCLE's Honolulu office, finding his partner still beside him, this time sitting in a chair at his bedside, waiting for Illya to come to.

"Well hello to you" Napoleon smiled " Welcome back to the world of the living...how do you feel?"

Illya paused..Fine, considering I was dead I suppose...where is the dog?"

"Napoleon laughed " it has been bathed, de-flea'd, scented and fed and it is currently enjoying the company of the ladies of the secretarial pool... Illya, I can't believe you made us go back for a dog?"

"I had my reason's" Kuryakin smiled weakly..." thank you Napoleon for not giving up on me."

"You'd do the same for me tovarisch...that's what friends are for." Solo smiled at him.

They heard someone clear their throat, and across the hospital room, Illya saw her grinning at him. "Hello Illuysha..." whispered Elliott McGowan.

Napoleon rose from his chair, knowing this was his cue to exit..."I'll leave you two kiddies alone." he smiled at Elliott.

"Thank you Napoleon," she said," giving him a little peck on the cheek as he walked past her."

Elliott walked over to Illya saying nothing, she leaned down kissing the Russian on the lips...a long and passionate kiss that he returned to her.

She finally stood up, whispering to him " ye and I...we need to talk."

Four days later Illya Kuryakin was released from medical, stitched up and his left arm in a sling. He walked down the hall with his right hand clasping Elliott's, holding her hand discreetly behind his back and his partner Napoleon walking along side the two of them. Napoleon had picked up their tickets for the return flight to New York and they would be boarding within the hour.

"So what about the dog" asked Solo, still curious at his partner's change in attitude."What happened on that atoll?"

Illya answered the question only in part, choosing to be silent about what happened with the animal on the atoll "Oh he...Napoleon that is, will be staying here in Honolulu with the ladies of the secretarial pool... as sort of a mascot" the Russian smiled.

"Napoleon? You named the dog Napoleon" Solo acted quite put out, scrunching face at his partner... realizing that Napoleon the dog was getting more attention from the ladies than he been ."Very funny, you smart ass Russian!"

" It was not meant to be funny," said Illya with all seriousness" the name is appropriate, as he showed up just when I needed help..."

Napoleon smiled...getting his partner's drift." Hey does this mean you don't dislike dogs anymore?

Illya did not answer him, and gave Elliott's hand a squeeze as he winked at her with a wry smile...

The three walked out together from the building into the beautiful Hawaiian sun." Shame we have to go back..." said Napoleon." looking up at the the cloudless sky"

"I think I have had enough of this part of the world" said Illya" I prefer a less warm climate..."

"Ti's true...too much sunshine for me as well!" laughed Elliott.

Solo looked at the pair like they had lost their minds...

The three agents arrived in New York, taking a cab directly to headquarters though they were a little jet-lagged. Every one was excited to see the Russian back safe and sound and Elliott managed to slip in without having been noticed she was with Solo and his partner.

Illya wrote out his brief report by hand, then after a brief meeting with Alexander Waverly he was sent home early in the evening; he would not have to report back to headquarters for a few days, and then for only light duty in his lab. He disappeared from headquarters avoiding any more of the well-wishers, making his way to Elliott McGowan's apartment.

His own apartment had been cleaned out...Napoleon insisting that Illya's things be put into storage...so it would take a day or so before his belongings were back in place.

The Russian unlocked the door to her darkened apartment, and after resetting the alarm, he walked quietly into the bedroom, removed his clothes, slipping under the covers with her, whispering to her, "Annushka...lyubimaya moya_beloved mine." Then pulled her close to him, wrapping his arm around her.

FINIS


End file.
